


Seven Ways To Win

by Thirivm



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, No Spoilers, Smut, mild gore/violence, that's right I'm giving Buckshot his own tag now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 12:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirivm/pseuds/Thirivm
Summary: It's romantic to think of love as a pure, simple thing. To see pride shining in your partner's eyes as they look at you, to feel the lust that pulls you into one another's embraces at night. But you know that's not always the case. Love can have an ugly side, like when you see someone close to you taking out their wrath in your name, or when your lover becomes the object of envy for someone that doesn't hold your heart.Between you and the man you love, there's a little bit of everything.





	1. Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> Starting this off with a bang and unrealistic treatment of wounds. Enjoy!

~.WRATH.~

* * *

  
His fist slams into the man’s face, again and again, until the blood starts to splatter against Arthur's face with each blow and he can no longer hear the man’s choked cries for him to stop. His knuckles ache, the skin most likely split open by now, and his shoulders burn from the steady momentum of his punching but he doesn’t stop because it can’t possibly match the pain that you’re in.

It should’ve been an easy job, this bounty hunt. You and he have both collected over a dozen bounties, both together and apart, and when the pair of you went after the same target you were all but unstoppable.

He blamed himself for this one. He should’ve known that the man had surrendered far too easily for someone wanted for multiple counts of mass murder. He should’ve made sure that the man had thrown down all his weapons before you went forward to tie him up.

But he hadn’t. He got careless, too comfortable with you beside him, and the next thing he knew he’d heard the crack of a gunshot, and the world seemed to blur around him as you collapsed with a cry of pain.

For a gut-wrenching second he'd thought that the shot had been fatal but then he saw the bloodstain spreading over your left shoulder. His relief is short-lived when he then noticed that the target had started to aim the gun again, to either fire at him this time or to finish you off, and something inside of Arthur had just snapped.

He doesn’t even remember moving forward but suddenly their target is on his back and Arthur is punching as hard as he can. The man is dazed by the blow and Arthur rips the gun from his hand, striking him across the face with the barrel before he tosses it aside and uses his fists again. Right hook. Left hook. Again and again, over and over until he becomes distantly aware of his name being called but all he can see is red.

The image of you grasping your bloody shoulder, the sound of your pained breaths as you fell back, it was all burned into his mind as he throws his weight behind each punch, and he feels flesh and bone giving way beneath his powerful strikes.

“A-Arthur..”

He’s panting now, growling and cursing at the man between ragged breaths and he’s starting to feel exhausted, even with the adrenaline and fury still coursing through his system, and a part of him tells him to stop before he kills the man but the larger part of him wants to finish him off. He wants to make him suffer for what he did to you-

“Arthur!”

Just like that he snaps out of it and looks back towards you. You’re sitting up, still gripping your shoulder with pain burning in your eyes and he suddenly wants to kick his own ass because right now you definitely needed him more than this bastard needs this beating.

“I’m not saying that asshole doesn’t deserve to hurt,” you say, letting out another pained breath before you manage to give Arthur a shaky smile. “But if ya bring him in dead, we only get half the reward..”

He looks at the man still pinned down beneath him, blood-soaked and unconscious but he’s still breathing so Arthur leaves him and rushes over to kneel down beside you, retrieving his flask of whiskey so that you can take a sip, and you eagerly do so as he inspects the wound.

He’s slightly relieved to see that the bullet had gone through so neither of you had to endure him trying to fish it out, but he still needs to dress the wounds and get you back to camp to have it tended to properly.

You don’t speak as he tears at your shirt just enough to get it out of the way but you do cry out when he pours some of the whiskey onto the bullet wounds. He winces at the sound, pressing a kiss to your temple in apology before he retrieves his bandanna from his pocket, and uses it to slow the bleeding enough for him to tie the wound off.

He uses your bandanna as the bandage, and you manage to get a hint of a smile from him when you mumble that he was going to buy you a new one with his share of the reward money. Your shoulder still burns like it’s on fire, the ache slowly spreading to the rest of your body, and with a clearer mind Arthur would probably scold you for trying to cheer him up when you were the one that had been shot, but everyone found comfort in their own unique way.

Arthur’s hands are steady as he wraps the wound but you can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s breathing, and you feel that slight tremble in his body as he helps you to your feet and over towards the horses. He throws the hog-tied man over the back of your mustang, much to Buckshot’s annoyance, before helping you onto the saddle of his stallion. 

“Don’t want you to ride alone,” Arthur says as he makes sure you’re securely in place but he avoids your gaze, even when you say his name to get his attention. “Might make that shoulder of yours even worse if ya slip off-”

“Arthur.” You say again, stronger this time, and you see him wince a little before he finally looks up towards you, and you frown when you see the guilt burning in his eyes. You reach down with your good arm, cupping his stubbled cheek and Arthur closes his eyes, leaning into your touch with a heavy sigh. “This wasn’t your fault..”

He says nothing to that, just sets his hand on top of yours for a long moment before he pulls it away and presses a kiss to your knuckles. But he does give you a faint smile before he climbs up onto the horse as well, and you smile back at him before turning back around to tether Buckshot’s lead line to the saddle horn.

The vindictive part of you hopes that your mustang will throw the man off at least once, but the logical side says that would just slow the trip down even more. Would it be worth it though? Probably.

  
…

  
Screw it. It would definitely be worth it.

* * *


	2. Sloth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just pure, unfiltered fluff.

~.SLOTH.~

* * *

You’re not even sure what time it is.

If you had to guess you’d say it was near the afternoon, but the dark gray clouds swirling overhead make it hard to be sure. A low clap of thunder rolls over the hills in the distance, not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of the rain beating down against the tent, and you take a slow breath before closing your eyes once more.

You’re in no real hurry to get up. The rainy weather had cancelled most of the camp’s plans for the day and everyone was still resting in their respective quarters, though you think a few of them were gathered up in Dutch’s tent. You can hear the faint sound of voices and clanking bottles but it’s not enough to actually disturb you, and so you just snuggle in closer to the warm body sprawled out on the cot beneath you.

Arthur doesn’t wake up yet, one arm tucked beneath his head and the other draped across your waist, and you watch him sleep with a soft smile. He always looked so peaceful when he was resting, that ever-present furrow in his brow gone for once as he relaxed, and you can’t help but lean up and press a soft kiss to his chin, feeling the brush of his familiar scar against your lips.

The touch of your kiss draws a soft hum up from Arthur’s chest and you see the corner of his mouth tug up into a small smile before he opens one eye to look down at you, his gaze bleary from sleep but still so warm as his smile grows. “Well, ain’t you a sight to wake up to..”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, sitting up and pressing a tender kiss to his cheek and hoping to cut off any of Arthur’s usual self-deprecating remarks. He looked ready to make one but then seems to think better of it when you give him a pointed look, so he just slides his hand up from your waist and to your shoulders as he pulls you down into a soft kiss.

You hum against his lips, getting a faint taste of the coffee that you’d both had that morning as you trail a hand along Arthur’s broad chest. He sighs at the contact and you move your head down to press a kiss to the side of his neck, your cheek grazing against his stubbled one as you do, and he lets out a soft chuckle when you sit up just enough to look down at him. “You’re getting rather scruffy there, Mr. Morgan.”

“Hair’s gettin’ pretty long too..” Arthur replies, reaching his other hand up to smooth the lengthy locks back, and his nose wrinkles when you immediately reach down to tousle it again. “Cut that out..”

“Make me.” you reply promptly but you have no time to move away before Arthur suddenly sits up, wrapping both of his arms around you and pressing you down into the cot beneath him as you laugh and halfheartedly push against his shoulder. He braces himself above you, his eyes shining with a pure happiness that you know he hadn’t felt in a long time.

You reach up, gently smoothing his hair back into place once more before he leans down to give you another kiss, draping his body over yours but not completely dropping his weight down onto you.

“Think I could stay here with you forever, darlin’,” Arthur whispers into your ear before he trails warm, wet kisses along your neck, and you inhale softly at the quick nip he gives the side of your throat before moving up towards your jawline. “Just you and me, nothin’ and no one else to worry about outside each other..”

“That’s a wonderful thought, cowboy..” you say quietly as Arthur trails his kisses along your cheek and towards your mouth, and he pauses when you look up at him with a warm smile. “But stuck inside a tent all day with nothing to do? We’d both go crazy within a day.”

“And who said anything about there bein’ nothin' to do?” Arthur replies, sharing a short laugh with you before he reclaims your mouth in a slow but heavy kiss, and you moan softly as you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him closer to you. He’s so warm, the smell of coffee and tobacco clinging to his clothes and you wonder if it’s physically possible to be more content than you are in this moment.

The gentle rain still beating down is soothing to your ears, and the heat of Arthur’s body is more than enough to chase away the faint chill in the air, and you’re glad to know that Hosea predicted that this storm would probably stick around all day. You didn’t want to leave this tent or this man unless you absolutely had to, and judging by the way he’s still kissing you, Arthur seems to feel the exact same way.

“Damn..” Arthur whispers when you both pull away to get some air, and he watches you lick your lips before he smiles and leans down to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes sliding shut. “You don’t even know what you do to me..”

“I like to think I have some idea,” you say, smiling again as Arthur shifts himself to lie beside you, and you tuck yourself in close to his chest when he holds his arms out in invitation.

Arthur lets out another content hum as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, his head resting comfortably on top of yours, and you feel one of his hands drawing out random patterns against your back as the other one settles across your waist.

You wonder, not for the first time, if things will always be like this, or if there’s more trouble in the gang’s future that would inevitably show up and cut moments like this short, but you try to brush those thoughts away and enjoy the time you have now with the man that you love.

“Thank you, darlin’..” Arthur suddenly whispers, so softly that you wonder if he’d even meant for you to hear it but a few seconds later you hear the change in his breathing, indicating that he’d dozed off again, and you smile to yourself as you snuggle back down.

The rain gets a little louder, just enough to start lulling you back to sleep as well, and you press one more kiss to Arthur’s neck before rest pulls you back into its hold.

_Thank you indeed, cowboy.._

* * *


	3. Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's technically smut in this one.

~.ENVY.~

* * *

  
Arthur Morgan was more than familiar with the phrase ‘you never know what you have until it’s gone’, and yet even after years of loving and losing, he still never thinks to apply those words to his own life until it’s too late.

You were the latest in a long list of hard-earned lessons. You, who had offered your heart to him and been turned away because no one knew how to spoil Arthur’s happiness like Arthur did. He’d seen the way you looked at him, heard the way you said his name, but he’d rejected it and now had to live with the sight of seeing you happy and in love.

With someone else.

Inwardly, he scolds himself because he has no right to be thinking this way. He’s no good, and doesn’t deserve to have someone like you by his side. You could do so much better than him – you were doing so much better than him – and he can’t blame you for giving your heart to someone younger and better-looking. Someone who was willing to happily give you their heart in return.

That wasn’t him. He pushed people away, denied himself the happiness that he didn’t think he deserved; there was no good reason in the world to tie someone as young and beautiful as you down to a tired old dog like him.

But no matter how many times he tells himself that, the sour filling still fills him whenever he sees you walking around with _him_. It makes his jaw clench when he hears the way you say _his_ name now, and his hands curl into fists as he watches the way that your lover can just walk up and touch you without hesitation.

He feels like such a dirty old bastard the night he notices the two of you slipping away from the camp shortly after dinner, and rather than go to bed and pretend that nothing was happening he follows you instead. No one seems to notice his retreat, or if anyone did it was probably someone used to seeing him head out at odd hours of the night. He creeps through the forest slowly, quietly, until he finally spots you, pushed back against a tree and holding your lover so close.

It hurts to see you kissing a man that’s not him. It makes his blood boil in his chest when he sees the way that bastard presses himself closer to you, mouth slowly trailing kisses along your neck and hands wandering over your body freely.

Arthur grits his teeth as he watches from the shadows, then flinches when he hears the way you moan out a name that isn’t his, loud and shameless because you think you’re far enough from the camp to have some privacy.

He closes his eyes and imagines that it’s his own name coming from your mouth instead, wishes that it was his hands cupping and squeezing your breasts right now, drawing those lovely groans from you. He shudders with want at the thought, then inwardly curses when he feels himself getting hard.

Well, shit.. He can’t risk touching himself right now, not while you’re still within earshot of him because he’ll just be thinking of you and won’t be able to hold back his own needy noises, not while he imagines what you’d taste like against his tongue, how you’d sound as he brought you over the edge again and again with his fingers until you were all but begging him to stop.

“Damn it..” Arthur breathes out, so soft that he almost can’t hear himself speak. You suddenly moan again, sharper and louder than before and a part of him wants to look and see what your lover’s doing to you to cause those delicious noises but he stops himself and turns away. He goes back to camp, praying that he doesn’t bump into anyone along the way because he still has this.. pressing issue to deal with.

The camp is quiet by the time he gets back, aside from some soft snoring coming from the closer sleeping quarters, and Arthur makes a beeline for his tent. He drops down onto his cot before the flap even closes behind him, palming himself through his worn jeans with a soft grunt before he hastily unbuckles himself with his free hand, and pushes the clothes down just low enough to free his erection.

He spits into his palm and then has to choke back a groan when he finally grasps his throbbing cock, his other hand tugging his hat down over his eyes and once again Arthur’s mind is filled with thoughts of you. On top of him, beneath him. He imagines how it’d feel to have your hot mouth around his cock or how you’d shake above him as his tongue teases and licks at your clit. He thinks of it all. Needs it all.

Fuck him, he wants you.. Fuck him because he almost had you but then he ruined it because that’s what he does. He could be having you right now if he hadn’t screwed up, fucking you in his bed instead of wondering if you’re still out in the woods with that bastard and being fucked against a tree. Rough and animalistic, he thinks. Not bad but certainly not how he’d take you for the first time, and then that sour feeling comes back as he then wonders if that’s not your first time with _him_. His hands had certainly seemed familiar with your body..

Goddamn it, this was not the time. He tries to will away those thoughts and return you to the forefront of his mind. He sees you all alone with him, crying out in pleasure as he ravishes you and brings you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back each time, enduring your frustrated curses with a laugh because he wants to draw everything out for that much longer.

Arthur’s halfway through a fantasy of having you straddle his face while he eats you out when he finally cums, shuddering and choking back another shaky moan that he hopes isn’t as loud as it had just sounded to his own ears, but his sudden pleasure is painfully short-lived and the high of his orgasm soon fades away into a cold, familiar longing.

He closes his eyes, the quiet night air and his own heartbeat seeming so loud in that moment and he eventually retrieves one of his spare bandannas to clean himself up, and then huffs as the usual feelings of shame and regret start to kick in.

But he doesn’t wallow in it and instead just closes his eyes again, and tries to resign himself to another long night of wishing that he wasn’t sleeping alone.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I imagined John as your lover in this one because I'm a self-indulgent weasel but really you can picture anyone.
> 
> Last one I wrote for the day, gonna finish the other four ASAP!


	4. Gluttony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all get drunk af with a bit of angst to sober you up.

~.GLUTTONY.~

* * *

A small part of you thinks that you should slow down when you find yourself opening another beer bottle. But also, who cares about what that part had to say? This was a party, a celebration, and you deserved to have as many drinks as you could handle!

Turns out you could handle a lot. Not very well, maybe, but still!

You’re not sure where most of the gang went. Dutch was there earlier but you don’t see him anymore, and you saw Javier and Charles leaving earlier with some women you didn’t know but you were glad to see them making more friends. Friends were great. Friends like Lenny and Arthur were especially great because you knew where they were, which was right next to you.

Arthur’s had more drinks than you. Lenny’s had fewer. Or maybe it was the other way around, you weren’t actually keeping track, but Lenny kept wandering away from the table so Arthur was your best friend now. Plus, unlike everyone else, Arthur didn’t push you away whenever you leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder. Which you were doing right now.

Up until you happened to think of a brilliant plan.

“Arthur.. Hey, Arthur! Mr. Morgan!” You sit up to face the man beside you, swatting at his shoulder a few times before Arthur finally blinks and looks at you, and his brow furrows when you grin back at him. “Hey, Arthur, I’m thinking, we should go and pretend to rob the bank!”

“Why would-” Arthur starts as he reaches a hand up towards his head before he trails off with a frown, and you watch as he grasps at the empty air for a few moments before he tilts his head back and scowls. “Where’s my hat?”

“I don’t know, probably back in Blackwater or somethin'.” You shrug, not noticing the pointed look that Lenny gives you before he reaches over, plucking the familiar hat off of your head and dropping it down onto Arthur’s. You beam, reaching up to push the hat down over Arthur’s eyes. “There you go, I found it!”

Arthur frowns, looking around for a moment before he fixes his hat, nearly knocking it off his head again in the process, and leans heavily against the table. “Why pretend to rob the bank? I mean, why don’t we just rob the bank for real?”

“Cause it’s funny!” you shout back at him, taking another long swing from your beer bottle and frowning when Arthur doesn’t so much as crack as smile. It was funny, how could he not see that? “We go in, act like we’re gonna rob them all, and then run away _before_ the sheriff shows up!”

“How’s that funny?” Arthur asks, swaying on the spot a little as you suddenly start to laugh, doubling over between loud giggles, and Arthur just blinks before he grabs the bottle from your hands and downs the last of it in a single gulp. Eventually you sit back up, having stopped laughing several seconds earlier before you shake your head and wave a dismissive hand in Arthur’s face.

“You just don’t get art, which is stupid ‘cause your name’s Art-hur!” You say accusingly before you look around, narrowing your eyes. “Where’d my drink go? Lenny!” You spin around to face a woman walking past you, taking a step forward when she quickly recoils. “Where’s my drink?!”

“That ain’t Lenny!” Arthur reaches over to grab your shoulder and starts pulling you back towards him but you only take a single step before you stumble, both of you trying and failing to grab onto the table before you find yourself sprawled out across the ground with Arthur on his back beneath you.

You raise your head, looking down at Arthur before you start to sit up but then the world blurs around you and you lay back down, resting your head against Arthur’s chest. He's warm.

“G’night Arthur. Wake me up when breakfast is ready.”

He says something in reply but you can’t actually make it out. Hopefully it’s an apology for him not understanding your hilarious bank-robbing idea. You close your eyes, frowning at the amount of noise still going on around you, and then let out an unhappy growl when you feel someone tapping your shoulder. “Until I smell bacon, you best leave me alone!”

“There’s bacon?” Arthur mumbles, and you open your eyes, frowning at the sight of the bartender standing over the pair of you.

“I think you’ve both had enough, miss,” the man says and when you look past his shoulder you can see Lenny at the bar, sipping from a fresh bottle and not looking at either of you. That bastard traitor. How dare he drink without you?

“Lenny! You suck!”

“Ma’am, please. You’re making a scene and I’d rather not have to get a deputy-”

“It’s a bar!” You snap back at the bartender, struggling for a moment to push yourself up and you nearly stumble when you step down on something big and soft. You don’t check to see what it is but you think you hear Arthur let out a muffled cry of pain. You hope he’s okay, wherever he is. “Where else am I gonna make a scene? Outside?”

“Ma’am-“

“Arthur, Lenny, we’re goin' outside!” You stagger towards the exit, half-wondering if either of the men are even following you as you push the doors open and the blast of cold night air hits you like a splash of cold water. You stumble forward, grabbing on to one of the hitching posts to keep yourself from falling before you look around.

The streets of Valentine are almost empty, with most of the townsfolk probably returning to their respective homes right now, and you watch a young couple go by with a frown. How come you didn’t have a nice home like they did?

You used to, when you lived with your family, but those days were over and gone. Your family was over and gone, or something like that, and you flop back heavily to sit down onto the wooden porch beneath you.

Behind you, the door to the bar swings open again and you recognize the heavy footsteps coming towards you but you don’t look up as Arthur drops down to sit beside you. He offers you a bottle, which you sip from without hesitation but blink when you realize that it’s water.

“Lenny says we should sober up, get ready to head back to camp,” Arthur says when he notices your expression, and he doesn’t look happy about it but he takes a sip of the water as well. “But, uh, I’m not sure where the horses are.”

“Hey, Arthur..?” You start to ask, vaguely aware that you don’t know where the horses are either, and you hear him hum in acknowledgement before you look over at him. “How come we don’t have a home?”

Arthur stares at you for a long moment before you look away with a frown. Now you felt bad.. You’d been having a good time together and you didn’t want to ruin it now with questions like that but you couldn’t just take it back either.

A few moments pass by slowly and you still get no reply so you sigh, and hope that Arthur’s just going to ignore the question and keep drinking the water. You turn towards him, hoping to get some more as well, but freeze when Arthur leans over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close to him.

You slump over, resting your head against Arthur’s chest as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“We’ve got the gang, and we’ve got each other,” he eventually says, nudging you lightly as he offers you the water again. “Might not be the same as what other folk have, but.. I think that’s enough of a home for me..”

“Yeah..” you mumble softly because maybe Arthur was right but that means thinking and you don’t want to think right now. Your head’s already starting to hurt and you take another sip of the water before settling back into Arthur’s arms.

You don’t remember dozing off, but you do remember thinking to yourself that being close to Arthur like that and having good folks to go back to, it did feel like home, and maybe that really was all you needed.

* * *


End file.
